


A Hard Rain

by Emerald



Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald/pseuds/Emerald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been dancing with and around one another for decades, now on the second eve of Beth's leaving, Mick's finally going to understand what it means to dance into eternity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hard Rain

LA’s city streets were awash with rain. Mick sat in the window of Josef’s apartment watching the water as it spilled down the gutters. He wondered how many litres it would take to wash away the whole city, wipe the grime from the glitter and start again.  
  
“You’re not going all apocalyptic on me, are you?” Josef sat on a couch nearby, studying Mick’s expressions as he nursed a large Scotch. “You’ve got that ‘a hard rain’s gonna fall’ look about you.”

“A hard rain is falling, Josef.” Mick wasn’t in the mood for Josef’s wisecracks. He traced an absentminded finger along the path of one of the water droplets. “It always rains this time of year.”

“Yeah, well winter time that will tend to happen.” Josef set his drink to one side, and walked over to where Mick sat, his hand rested gently on Mick’s shoulder. “Unless you had a more poetic thought in mind, the heaven’s weeping and all that.”

Almost in spite of himself Mick laughed. Downstairs music wafted up from a neighbour’s apartment. Josef extended his hand then.

“Come on, once around the room for old time’s sake.”

“Old times,” Mick thought. Back in the days before Beth had come on the scene, back when he was still footloose and fancy free, living the undead dream with Josef an ever present constant by his side. Of course there was always Coraline, but she never danced the way Josef did.

“Foxtrot or Tango?” Mick asked as he allowed Josef to draw him into an embrace.

“Neither,” Josef smiled as he wrapped his arms around Mick’s waist, and held tight. “How about we evoke some real memories.”

They were slow dancing then, pressed cheek to cheek, trying to keep time with the faint rhythms of the floor below.

“I don’t remember us ever doing this before.” Mick settled further into Josef’s arms, comforted by familiarity.

“That’s because you were always too busy trying to impress the ladies with your fancy footwork,” Josef countered. “All we ever did was practice moves.”

“Well what did you expect when I had the best teacher in town all to myself?”

Mick suddenly attempted a dip Josef wasn’t ready for, the two of them ending up sprawled out on the floor together in a tangled heap as they both lost their footing.

“Well that was graceful,” Josef deadpanned as he stood up and brushed the creases out of his suit.

“Hey, you were the one talking about moves,” Mick countered.

“I didn’t mean let’s re-enact them without warning.”

“Sorry,” Mick scuffed at an imaginary spot on the floor with one shoe, his hands shoved awkwardly into the pockets of his jeans then. “Guess I ruined the moment.”

Josef feigned ignorance. “Is that what we were having?”

“Hey, come on,” what little there was of Mick’s patience was beginning to wear thin. “It’s not the first time we’ve ended up on the floor.”

Josef’s reply came quick off the mark.

“Really? I’m actually surprised we didn’t make it into the bedroom more than we did, considering your penchant for dancing around the issue.”

“Is that what we’re doing now, are we dancing?” Mick inched forward, hesitant, the conversation shifting to other memories now, other times, the two of them dancing, entwined.

“You tell me,” surreptitiously Josef edged Mick’s space; the two of them in a choreographed routine of approach and withdraw. “How long’s it been?”

“Since we danced?”

“Since Beth left.”

Mick was caught off guard. Josef’s arms were draped around Mick’s shoulders then.

“Two years,” Mick rested his forehead against Josef’s own, took what comfort was being offered. This was better; this was what he’d needed Josef here for in the first place.

“So no more dancing then?” Josef brushed his lips against Mick’s own.

Mick smiled as he traced the contours of Josef’s face, “No more dancing.”

“So what was that we were doing before?” Josef teased as he went to work on the buttons of Mick’s shirt.

“Foreplay,” Mick offered up an off centred smile.

“Someone really needs to teach you the meaning of that word.” Josef slipped Mick’s shirt off his shoulders, and stripped his arms out of the sleeves. Mouth pressed against Mick’s ear then, Josef whispered. “You’re beautiful; you know that, don’t you?”

They were kissing then, devouring each other’s mouths with a hunger Mick hadn’t felt in years. The two of them tangled up in a snarling flurry of limbs and fangs. Somehow they managed to orchestrate shedding the rest of their clothing, before they made it as far as the couch. And oh they were dancing then, dancing like they should have been all long. Mick straddling Josef’s lap, grinding himself against Josef’s thigh, his hands buried in Josef’s hair as he kissed him over, and over, and Josef responding in kind, hips thrusting upwards as the pace quickened.

Josef gripped Mick’s hips either side then, controlled the rhythm of his movements, slower now, more focused. Mick groaned and let his eyes fall shut, let Josef take control. They’d danced a hundred times before, in a hundred different ways, and still Josef always took the lead.

“Call me old fashioned, but how about we actually make it into bed this time?” Josef’s hand explored the musculature of Mick’s chest, watching the way the fibres under Mick’s skin rippled at every touch. He paused to tweak one of Mick’s nipples between thumb and forefinger. “Come on,” Josef grinned then as he shifted Mick to one side, and got to his feet, his hand extended for Mick to take. “Once around the room for old time’s sake.”

“Foxtrot or Tango?” Mick quickly side stepped an expected ribbing.

Josef arched one eyebrow, his voice dripping with suggestion. “Wait and see.”

Mick accepted Josef’s proffered hand, let Josef lead him upstairs, along winding corridors to the master bedroom. He froze a little then, nerves beginning to take over. Floors and couches were different, floors and couches were sex, hard, brutal fucking until one or both of you came in a howling mess, and the moment was forgotten. A bed spoke of memories made to keep, passion that seeped into the very fibres of the mattress itself.

The heat of Josef’s arousal radiated with Mick’s own as they fell backwards together onto that same mattress below. Josef shifted cat like along Mick’s supine body, until he was stretched out on top of him.

“So now what?” Mick gave a nervous laugh as Josef’s lips met his own, the kiss softer again this time, alluring him into unchartered waters.

Josef placed one hand under Mick’s buttocks, urged Mick to draw his knees up.

“What do you think? Not like we haven’t done this a hundred times before,” Josef raised himself up on both arms, looked down at Mick lying beneath him, a burlesque smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tell me you fell off the bicycle and forgot how to ride.”

“No.” Mick made a ‘pfft’ noise, much to Josef’s amusement, and wrapped his legs around Josef’s hips.

“Good,” Josef purred against the side of Mick’s neck then, his hand slick with a mixture of saliva and pre-cum used to coat the shaft of his cock. And then there was warmth, and tightness enveloping him, and Mick was arching upwards, sensations blending into a morass of pleasure as Josef began to move inside him.

“I still remember, I’ve always remembered us like this,” Mick reached between them, wanting to touch himself in time to the rhythm of thrust and withdraw Josef was setting. “It’s just, it’s been a while.”

“A year to be exact, we always fuck on this night,” Josef stepped up the pace, the first stirrings of an orgasm coiling round the base of his spine. “I’d say happy anniversary, but somehow it doesn’t seem appropriate.”

Mick couldn’t find the words to respond. He clung to Josef’s back, dug nails into flesh, and drew blood as he bucked in time to the increasingly frenetic pace. He was close, oh god he was so close. And then he felt Josef stiffen above him, muscles tensing in that delicious moment before the inevitable, and they were falling then, the two of them together, fangs slicing as they simultaneously crashed headlong into waves of pleasure.

“That was better than I remember it,” Mick was floating on a cloud of post orgasmic bliss as Josef withdrew to lie alongside him.  
“It’s always better than you remember it,” Josef teased then as he draped on leg over Mick’s thigh and rested his head in the crook of Mick’s shoulder.

Mick paused to place a kiss on the top of Josef’s head. “So what are we doing here, are we still just dancing?”

“We’re always dancing,” Josef turned Mick’s face towards his. “We’ve been dancing since the day we met; we could dance into eternity if you wanted.”

Eternity felt so near and yet so far. Mick rarely thought of eternity and here Josef was offering it to him on a sated platter. Would they still be dancing then, skirting around issues like love and connection?

He drew an arm around Josef’s shoulder. Outside a hard rain still fell, but inside, in the here and now, they had each other, they’d always had each other.

And eternity didn’t seem like such a bad deal.

  



End file.
